Page 91 of Line Change

I don’t care. I push him onto the mattress and climb over him.

His hands land on my chest. He lets me kiss him until my cock is sliding against his, then rolls us with a hard twist of his hips.

I hit the bed on my back. Nolan settles between my thighs, naked except for the sock, and bends to kiss me again.

His weight is familiar. Being under it isn’t.

I hold the back of his neck and keep him close while his mouth moves down my throat. He sucks at the place where my pulse is beating too hard, then licks over one nipple. The wet heat makes my stomach tighten.

Nolan’s hand trails down my side. It slows at my hip.

The pause is small, but I feel it. He rubs his thumb over the inside of my hip and waits until I open my legs farther. Then he moves between them and cups my balls again.

“You can touch me,” I tell him.

“I am touching you.”

“You know what I mean.”

His eyes lift to mine. He drags two fingers behind my balls, over my taint, and back to my hole. The touch is lighter now than it was in the kitchen. He’s waiting for me to tense or tell him to stop.

I lift my hips into his hand.

Nolan’s breath leaves him. His fingertip circles me, dry and careful, pressing just enough that my body pulls tight around the pressure.

I lift again, trying to get more pressure from one fingertip. My legs are already opening for him. I need him inside me.

“Fuck me.”

The words tear out of me.

Nolan goes still. His fingertip stays against me, but the pressure disappears. “Do you mean that?”

“I mean it.” My heart is hitting too hard against my ribs. I pull him closer with the hand at his neck. “I want it.”

He searches my face long enough that I almost tell him again. Then he kisses me, slow and deep, and reaches for the drawer beside the bed.

The lube lands near my hip. He puts a condom beside it, then comes back over me and kisses me until the tightness in my chest eases.

Nolan opens the lube. The first slick touch against my hole is cool enough to make me flinch. His hand stops immediately.

“Cold,” I say.

His mouth brushes mine. “Yeah.”

He warms it over me with slow circles. The pressure builds until his fingertip catches at the opening. I make myself breathe and loosen my legs around him.

Nolan watches my face as he presses in.

The first stretch burns. It’s smaller than what I’ve asked him to put there, and my body still clamps hard enough that he can’t move.

He doesn’t try. His finger stays just inside while his other hand strokes my side. Nolan kisses the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, giving me time without turning it into a question.

The burn fades. What replaces it is stranger: the full, specific pressure of his finger inside my body, his knuckle resting against the most sensitive part of me.

I roll my hips experimentally. The movement takes him deeper.

“Okay?” he asks.